


Fit For Purpose

by HDHale, WolfGeralt



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Clothing Kink, Flirting, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Sex, Leather Kink, Leather Trousers, M/M, Nipple Play, Power Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Sexual Tension, gender nonconforming Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26432299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDHale/pseuds/HDHale, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfGeralt/pseuds/WolfGeralt
Summary: It’s as if leather and metal are a Witcher’s second skin.In which Jaskier takes Geralt to purchase new leather trousers and learns something about his own tastes.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 175





	Fit For Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> Adult themes, barely explicit but please heed the tags.
> 
> Written as gift work rather quickly for my dear friend Jemma, who's been an absolute star helping with my Geralt and Jaskier costuming, and as a roleplay partner.
> 
> Still in its unbeta'd and dirty first draft form, so no critique desired, thank you. Happy reading!

It’s inevitable, what with the sheer onslaught of mire and viscera that Geralt wades his way through, that at some stage the Witcher will require new clothing. Generally speaking, Jaskier has watched as Geralt threaded needles, or has used a stringy spine from an especially vicious plant to tack on new leather patches over holes. He can be surprisingly nimble with his fingers- something Jaskier appreciates as a lover- and has a good eye for fine details. At times the studded plate armour will require a simple refitting of a single plate, which is fairly easily restoration for any expert. It only takes a single monster hunt for it to grow battered and weathered like the rest, Jaskier realises in dismay, but it’s evident where Geralt’s armour gets creased or worn, a part of his very being at times it seems. It’s as if leather and metal are a Witcher’s second skin.

And Jaskier does think it beautiful, that inky black and silver riveted studs which make Geralt’s pale skin look fairer than any noblewoman who’s been sheltered indoors from the sun out of vanity, and his hair, silvery-white, has a faint spun silver sheen much like the studs when they’re buffed and clean. He wears his leathers well. Jaskier thinks him more handsome and gracefully put together than any knight in bulky, clattering armour better suited for kitchenware. It proves something about a Witcher's bravery, stealth, hardiness, to be able to face monsters in nothing but hide. It gives Jaskier shivers.

The boots, close-fitted to muscular legs are also commissioned, Jaskier learns. Everything Geralt has is made fit for purpose given his lifestyle and unique, impressive stature and build. He requires a good sole, a thicker leg and suppler hide than most, to be mobile and lasting. They appear sculpted to him and the quality shines through, making Jaskier, as a nobleman and former resident of Oxenfurt who’s grown up truly appreciating a master cordwainer... somewhat jealous. The very first compliment Geralt first gives on Jaskier’s fashion choices is over his own boots- lace cut patterned leather in a butter-soft skin that are more comfortable than Geralt’s. The Witcher appreciates the craftsmanship and hardiness of the design, which seemed to be the exception comapred to his puff ball sleeves, and bright, fragile fabric choices. The typical response to Jaskier debuting his latest style was first a slow look over, a blank, stony expression, and a quiet grunt.

It wasn’t until their bed-sharing became a frenzied tumbling into bed to fuck like rabbits, that Jaskier began to coax more from the Witcher. A look-over like that turned out to be Geralt admiring him, even with that naturally displeased expression he often wore. The first few smirks crept in after a while, flirtatious compliments following shortly after when Geralt realised Jaskier was desperate for affectionate words which were a balm on his soul.

Sometimes a ragged compliment would come out as Geralt stripped his clothing away, telling Jaskier rather crassly how well his cock hung in a pair of silk trousers, or how he’d been able to see Jaskier’s nipples through his sheer shirt the entire day- all the while rolling and pinching them through the thin fabric as the bard grew dizzy with how quickly arousal sprung his cock.

While Jaskier thought Geralt was more beautiful than any marble statue and wrote endless ballads and poetry of his good deeds, his bravery, his might- and privately how gloriously hung his cock was- he had rarely seen Geralt in an outfit he hadn’t immediately associated with the macabre. It wasn’t as though Jaskier could coax Geralt into the finest, most flamboyant silk shirt and jacket he could persuade him to wear once. Geralt had been too self-conscious, so Jaskier had let it slide. Strangely the Witcher had kept them, more a keepsake in appreciation of the gesture. Geralt was a surprisingly sentimental man.

A nasty raking of claws across Geralt’s thighs had left him one set of leather breeches down, and so Jaskier suggested they pick up another set from Oxenfurt while they were closeby, knowing just the place. The motivation had been selfishly to pick out a few other pieces of clothing Geralt- a dyed shirt in a colour other than black, because yes, even if black dyed cloth was both practical and expensive, it didn’t mean it was the best option. Jaskier was eager to see Geralt in a purple to see how it might bring out the amber hue in his eyes, or perhaps a midnight blue…

The outfitters was well-stocked for both their tastes. Geralt had taken off directly to the hunting wear, selecting a few pairs of trousers, then waving and gentle nudging Jaskier away when he’d tried to 'assist'. After some pouting, Jaskier instead busied himself selecting a few flimsy, lace trimmed blouses which looked designed to be worn beneath a waistcoat, or perhaps for woman with overclothes. Jaskier couldn’t care who it was intended for if it suited him and his devious scheme to tease Geralt by wearing the most revealing clothing possible. Meanwhile Geralt had disappeared inside one of the private, curtained booths to change.

Jaskier had gotten distracted by a particularly lovely doublet when there was a gruff, familiar voice.

“They’re alright.” Geralt was looking downward, taking a few strides towards an age-spotted mirror, twisting to check the fit, giving the waistband a tug.

Eyes locked on Geralt’s backside, Jaskier felt heat burning at his cheeks, his ears.

“Oh my…” he let the silk jacket drop onto the display table and circled around to meet Geralt, eying his legs.

They fit snugly. Jaskier could see the flex of muscle as Geralt moved, his cock seemed perfectly cupped, creating an impressive bulge at the front where they buttoned with individually hammered flat silver moons, and the sides of his thighs were clad with a panel of hand embossed detailing in diamonds.

“Bit tight.” Geralt noted, more to himself than Jaskier.

“They’re good,” the bard with a rush of breath where he’d lost it. “Very good. Very… snug.”

Geralt looked at him, head inclined, assessing this sudden inarticulate babbling from a bard famed for his silver tongue. Their eyes met and Jaskier’s rounded slightly, knowing as Geralt’s lips twitched, and ever so slowly, a sharp canine was revealed. His chin lifted, his nostrils flared, eyes darkening at the familiar scent of Jaskier’s growing aroused. It made him squirm.

“Bit fancy. You like them a lot though, hm?” Geralt was stepping up to him. So casual, but there might have appeared to be a slight threat, with how he was imposing in on Jaskier’s space.

“Very much so.” Jaskier looked down, reaching out to skim elegant fingers down the side of the engraved leather. It's sleek, oily almost, the way it appears to glide over the powerful swell of Geralt’s muscle-thick thighs. “They are rather form fitting, but… in a good way. The best way. Wow... Well, I knew I liked you in leather, but _these_... these are something else entirely.” Jaskier grew pinker, looking up as he daringly drew his fingers across over Geralt’s thigh tenderly, but with teasing purpose.

The leather was smooth and unblemished, perfectly nourished, warming to Geralt's body already. Jaskier couldn't help but wonder how they might feel against his bare thighs, his cheek... how readily those buttons might pop open beneath his thumbs. This pair of trousers were too fine to be wasted on monsters when they made Jaskier long to devour his Witcher instead. Even the smell of leather was earthy and rich, primal somehow, and so familiar of Geralt that Jaskier wanted to ensure that scent would never be tarnished by anything other than the scent of themselves.

Jaskier lowered his voice a fraction, knowing Geralt wouldn’t miss a word even hushed, he looked so fascinated and attentive. “I’ll buy them. They’ll be a treat for myself as much as a gift for you. But you’ll need another pair to wear to kill monsters in. These are for _casual_ wear only.”

After a quick glance around and sensing they weren’t receiving any real attention for the moment, his palm turned and he cupped Geralt’s bulge, weighing him in his palm. Jaskier hummed and smirked as a soft grunt left Geralt’s throat even as his jaw twitched and tightened to try keep it in.

“Let’s hurry back to the tavern. I want to suck your cock and then ride you while you wear nothing but these delightful leathers if you’re game…” A firmer squeeze and Jaskier took mercy, releasing Geralt where he had begun to feel some stirring to his cock. He sidestepped around the Witcher and patted his full yet firm backside with a light but satisfying smack. “You should check out your arse in the mirror before we leave too. It’s quite the view.” The leather trousers looked skintight against his cheeks, cupping to accentuate just how perky and full they were, with a perfect shine which had Jaskier longing to squeeze and palm and _bite_.

Jaskier only looked over his shoulder after a moment to toss a wink, Geralt watching with raised brows and a pleasantly surprised, bemused expression which was rare on him. However he did twist to look over his shoulder to see what Jaskier had been so taken with. _Good_ , Jaskier thought. _He should learn to appreciate himself the way I do._

It was certainly one of the best and most self-indulgent purchases he’d ever made.

**Author's Note:**

> I felt this is probably the level of flirtation and naughtiness they could risk in public without causing a stir given the setting.
> 
> They're in an undefined relationship, but they're idiots in lust and love in my mind always.
> 
> Please do not leave critique on this as it's gift work, but if you enjoyed, toss a comment/kudos to your author.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
